


Poetry, Plants, and the Path to True Love

by the_many_splendored



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, La Belle et la Bête | Beauty and the Beast (1946)
Genre: All characters are human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, F/M, Harassment, No curse in the traditional sense, Organized Crime, Police Brutality, They were neighbors, Unwanted Kisses, no magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_many_splendored/pseuds/the_many_splendored
Summary: Sometimes running from a threat means running to your destiny.
Relationships: Adam/Belle (Disney)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Poetry and Plants](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322976) by [the_many_splendored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_many_splendored/pseuds/the_many_splendored). 



> So when I posted "Poetry and Plants", both my commentators stated that they could see the piece as part of a larger whole, which inspired me to do a full AU instead of just one scene. For reference, since this corresponds to the whole movie, there are several things that will be shown that could only be referenced in the original one-shot, and when we get to the equivalent "Poetry and Plants" chapter, it's likely to be re-tooled.
> 
> This prologue could be set any time between 2005 and 2010, with following chapters taking place in the early to mid 2020's. The two towns shown could be considered equivalent to any two towns that are on opposite sides of a major national park - they know of each other, but people aren't coming and going through the park without reason. The names of the town come from a random generator available online.

Once upon a recent time, in the city of Redmoor, which borders the Great Avalon Forest, there lived a young boy, almost a teenager, who was the only son of a wealthy local family. He was devoted to his parents, but his favorite person in the world was his only aunt, his mother’s younger sister. She loved him as if he were her own, and throughout his childhood, she had encouraged his spirit of justice and adventure.

One snowy evening, the boy and his aunt were driving home along one of the forest roads after a day of hiking. Suddenly, an animal ran out in front of their car -the woman swerved to avoid it, but on the slick surface, she lost control of her vehicle and it swung into a ditch. The boy was unharmed, but his aunt had knocked her head hard enough that she seemed completely unaware of her surroundings.

Fumbling around, the nephew found his aunt’s cellphone, and doing as his parents had always taught him, called the emergency services line, describing the location of the accident to the best of his ability. After he gave his report, the dispatcher assured him that help was on the way and he waited – and waited….and waited. Even after calling his parents, he couldn’t see any lights on the road.

The minutes ticked by, and the boy realized that his aunt was in pretty dire shape. Her bleariness was starting to border on delirium, and although he did his best to keep her awake, he could tell that she was starting to not be able to recognize him. His panic grew and grew, and when the first response vehicle, a police car, appeared after fifty minutes, that panic mutated into a rage he’d never felt before. As the officer got out of his vehicle, the boy stormed over in a righteous fury, berating him for not arriving sooner. Wasn't it in his job description to help people?

The policeman reacted as if the words were actually weapons – instead of recognizing the boy’s distress, he grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanked opened the back door of his car, and threw him onto the back seat while calling him a vicious little beast. The boy screamed that he was no such thing, and when his parents arrived, he hoped they would see like he had that this officer was standing in the path of justice. However, after the adults talked and he was let out of the car, he found himself slapped across the face by his father. The older man took his son by the shoulders, and in a disappointed voice, told him that he should be ashamed of making such a scene. The boy looked at his mother pleadingly, but she made a point of looking away. At that, the officer’s words sank into the boy’s heart like poison. If his parents weren’t defending him, did that mean what the man said was true? Was the boy the one who had done something wrong?

\--

Over the next years, the boy grew into a handsome young man, but the echoes of that horrible night began to surface in ways no one had expected. He was wickedly intelligent but sneered at anyone who asked what he deemed to be foolish questions. He got into fights with little justification, and quickly lost most of his friendships at school. When he was in a true rage, it would put fear in the heart of the strongest man. His parents made a token attempt at family counseling, but the young man realized quickly that his father was simply trying to get him to fall into line – he couldn’t have another _**scene**_ like what had happened all those years ago, after all.

As time went on, the gulf between him and his parents increased, until finally, after his eighteenth birthday, his father handed him the deposit for a new place to live. He moved into a beautiful but stern home in a different neighborhood of Redmoor, and kept company only with the occasional neighbor. Otherwise, he could often be found in his new garden, where he was discovering an interest in horticulture.

The one person who hadn’t given up on him was his aunt, who lived closer to him now than ever before. In the intervening years, she had recovered after several surgeries, and had even been able to give birth to a son. She’d barely had a chance to see her nephew since the accident, but that didn’t stop her from telling her boy about his older cousin and what a fine young man he could be. “One day,” she promised her son, “your cousin will have something or someone to love again. I don’t know when or how, but when he does, he’ll come back to us.” As the years went by, she only hoped she would live to see that day.


	2. Highest of Highs, Lowest of Lows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the other side of Great Avalon Forest, our favorite book nerd goes out on what she thinks will be a typical day of errands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the names for the Baker and the Bookseller from the names of the voice actors for the characters in the '91 version; the info is available on IMDB.
> 
> Slight warning - Gaston doesn't actually do anything weird this chapter, but Belle is getting BAAAD vibes off of him.

**_Present Day_ **

It was a typical fall morning in Irondell Township, but that was a compliment - the air was fresh and the leaves were just starting to turn. Belle Fleming and her father, Maurice, had woken early to get their shop ready for the day’s business, and the two of them were finishing breakfast when the shop phone rang. Brushing the crumbs from her mouth and pulling her chocolate-brown hair into a ponytail, Belle picked up the phone and in a voice that sounded like music to most people who heard it, said, “Good morning, Fleming’s Mechanics, this is Belle speaking – how can I help you?”

“Good morning, Belle! This is Alec Murphy down at the bakery, just wanted to know what was going on with that part I dropped off?”

Belle was glad that the baker couldn’t see her face, because the eye-roll she’d managed was truly impressive. Mr. Murphy had only come in with the part the prior afternoon, and while she respected that he wanted to run both of his ovens for the breakfast crowd, Maurice’s mechanical work was not something that should be rushed. Nevertheless, she looked over her shoulder and was glad to see that the item was on her father’s work bench. Turning back to the phone, she said, “It’s first on his list, Mr. Murray, it should be ready by 10:30. Do you want one of us to bring it to you or will you be stopping by?”

“Could you bring it over please? I’ll make sure to set aside a few rolls for your trouble.”

Belle agreed, not only because she knew Mr. Murphy made the best brioche she’d ever had, but because on the way back to the shop, she might be able to stop in at the library and see if that mystery novel she’d requested had come in yet.

* * *

Maurice had made quick work of the oven piece, and at 10:30 on the dot, Belle was walking into the library with a happy heart and the smell of fresh bread rising from the bundle in her satchel. Irondell had relocated its post office when she was a little girl, and the prior building was where the library was now. The building was small, but its skylight, a re-purposed church window, made the main room sparkle in a way that had always seemed magical. Belle waved to Mr. Alvin at the front desk, who’d been the librarian for as long as she could remember.

He waved back, and before she could even ask about her reservation, he placed three books on the desk. “Got your new book here, Belle, and a small gift each for you and your dad.”

Belle couldn’t restrain a surprised chuckle. “More freebies? I already got a bundle from Mr. Murphy’s place just for bringing him his oven part!”

Mr. Alvin smiled warmly. “You know how I have to move out older materials if they’re not getting checked out anymore? I was going through today’s pile, and I found the poetry book you used to pick up all the time when you were younger, along with the economics book your father was using when he was getting his shop off the ground. If it’s not too sentimental of me to suggest, I thought you should have them.”

Belle surprised herself as she felt happy tears sting her eyes. Mr. Alvin saw and started to dig in his pocket for a handkerchief – “Oh Belle, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

She waved him off and smiled through the tears. “No, no, don’t be sorry, it’s wonderful!” They continued to make polite chit-chat as she loaded up her bounty, being careful not to squash her brioche buns, and as she left the library, her already happy mood was almost buoyant.

_Today might just be perfect,_ she thought to herself. _Fresh bread, good books, Dad’s ahead of schedule…_ A booming voice called out her name from across the street, and the balloon that was her heart started to shrivel. “Well, so much for perfection…” she muttered to herself before mustering a civil expression. Turning towards the person the voice belonged to, she said, “Hello, Gaston,” in as even a tone as she could manage.

Gaston was one of those men who was objectively handsome, given his tall muscular frame, chiseled looks and black hair he always kept back in a ponytail not unlike Belle’s own. However, since he had moved into town the year before, Belle had found that not only was she not attracted to him, she almost felt actively repulsed. She couldn’t name an exact reason why his whole affect didn’t work for her, but as he walked over to her side of the road, she had to restrain a shudder.

Gaston didn’t seem to notice her unease; in fact, his smile was wide and friendly when he greeted her more properly. “Belle, always nice to see you! I was just on my way to your dad’s shop on a business matter, is it all right if I walk with you?”

_It’s very much **not** all right_, Belle thought, but if Gaston truly had business with Maurice, she wouldn't stand in his way. That said, she wasn’t going to let him stand _behind_ her either. Gaston had never made an active pass at her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she walked in front of him on the way back, he would be staring at her figure. Nodding her agreement, she let him lead the way.


	3. Gaston Gets It Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because Gaston occasionally has good ideas doesn't mean he knows what's best for the Fleming family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've found as I'm continuing on that I'm pulling characterization from the 2017 Disney film and a bit from Cocteau's version as well, so if folks seem different from the 1991 movie, there's a reason for it.

When he and Belle returned to Maurice’s shop, Gaston explained that he wanted to talk over a few ideas, and he even called in some lunch for the three of them from Vonna’s Restaurant up the street. Belle protested, stating she’d already packed a meal and besides, they had the rolls, but Gaston waved her off. “Nonsense! If I’m offering a business proposal, I pay for the food. That’s just how it’s done!”

To be fair, the food he ordered was delicious – the delivery boy, whom Gaston called Le Fou, showed up with a large container of chicken soup, a freshly chopped Greek salad, and apple tarts that looked like roses. When Belle asked how he’d gotten something together so quickly, Gaston merely shrugged. “Vonna owes me a favor.”

The conversation during the meal was light, and Belle began to wonder if she’d misjudged the man talking to her father. Gaston obviously had passions in his life, even if they were different from hers - he and Maurice found common ground talking about the restoration methods of old firearms, and Belle surprised herself with her laughter after Gaston described a hunting trip from his boyhood where he’d nearly been torn apart by an angry goose.

After everyone had finished their dessert, Gaston straightened his posture, and Belle could tell he was switching into a more serious mode. “Maurice, what it comes down to is this - my parents left me with quite a bit of money, and I’d like to put it to good use. I invested some in Vonna’s place, but I want to expand my options. And besides, do you have a plan for whenever you want to retire?”

“Well of course I have a plan,” Maurice said, as if it were obvious. “Belle inherits everything. What she does after that is up to her, but I don’t intend to retire for quite some time.”

“Everything? Even debts you might have?” Gaston seemed skeptical. “I know you run a pretty tight ship here, but surely Belle shouldn’t be left without a safety net.”

Belle noticed Gaston was turning the conversation more and more to Maurice alone, and she didn’t care for it. Clearing her throat to get the men’s attention, Belle said, “I’m sure I would do just fine on my own, but if it would ease everyone’s mind, let’s get the tax returns from last year and run some numbers.”

Maurice nodded in agreement. “Data will help, certainly.” Standing up, he said, “I’ll be right back,” and went into the other room to collect his financial documents.

The shop space was quiet, and Belle realized that Gaston was sitting closer to her than he had when the food arrived. Looking over at him, she made a point of scooting away, and when he followed her, she knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Whatever charm he’d built up in her mind in was quickly losing its luster.

Crossing her arms, Belle decided that there was no point in being indirect. “Are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here, Gaston, or am I gonna have to guess?”

He smiled, but now it was a more pronounced smirk. “I’m making a business proposal, Belle, like I said. Why, don’t you believe me?”

“No, I really don’t.” Belle stared the man down as best as she could. “I don’t see why someone in the restaurant business wants to get involved with a mechanic’s shop, and I don’t like you implying that I would be helpless if something happened to my dad.”

He put up his hands in a mock show of surrender. “You’ve got me there – It’s not the shop that I care about; it’s the person in it.” Gaston reached out to touch Belle’s shoulder and his thumb traced her collarbone. “I meant it when I said I hope you’re protected for the future. Your dad’s great at what he does, but he’s not getting any younger, and I don’t want a beautiful person like you stuck as a shop girl all her life. I see you around town all the time – you’ve got a taste for the finer things, just like I do. If I take over the shop, you’ll be free to read your books all day!” His smile was now strangely tender, but he was so off base that Belle wanted to cuff him upside the head.

Grabbing his hand and pushing it off her shoulder, Belle said, “I see two problems with this plan, Gaston – first, I _don’t_ want to lounge around all day, it would drive me crazy! Second, you haven’t said what’s in this for you.”

Before she could stop him, Gaston pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he was starved. Belle knew that if she’d been at all attracted to him, she would have melted in his embrace, but given her lack of attachment, all she felt was fear and disgust, and she didn’t spare an ounce of pity for the pain she caused when she kicked the would-be Romeo right in the side of his knee.

Gaston let her go, and as he stumbled backwards, Belle found her words. “HOW DARE YOU!” she screamed. “Is that what this was all about – you trying to get me alone? Who the hell do you think you are!?”

Maurice rushed in from the other room, having heard the volume of the conversation but not the words. “What’s going on out here!”

“It’s nothing, I-”

“SHUT UP!” Belle surprised herself; she hadn’t yelled like this in years. “Our so-called partner just kissed me without asking, and he’s lucky that his knee is the only thing I kicked! This whole thing was a trick!”

Gaston tried to smile as he stumbled into a better position. “Maurice, please, that’s not who I am, Belle just got the wrong idea…”

For a split second, Belle was afraid that her dad wouldn’t believe her, but her fears were assuaged when she saw the look on his face. He was clearly furious, and his tone was dangerous when he told Gaston, “Get out of my shop. My daughter isn’t a liar, and I won’t have you calling her one. There won’t be a partnership.” Gaston had the decency to leave after that, but Belle was sure she heard him growl something under his breath as he left.

* * *

To help calm her nerves, Maurice had Belle stay home the next two days while he handled things at the shop. Belle had dealt with some guys being too forthright before, but Gaston’s aggression, even while claiming that he was acting out of care for her, was entirely new to both Maurice and Belle. Who could say what he would do next, especially when she and her dad had humiliated him?

At the end of her second day off, Belle was _just_ starting to calm down when she heard her father’s car pull into the driveway. She smiled to herself, but her smile faltered when she looked out the window and saw Maurice shuffling slowly to the front door. He _was_ getting older, this was true, but he was usually invigorated by his work.

When she opened the door for him, she recoiled. Maurice's shirt was torn and she could see he had bruising all over his side – he’d clearly been thrashed with some sort of bat or pipe. Before Belle could even formulate a question, he said as clearly as he could around a split lip, “We need to leave Irondell tonight. I’ve already called your Uncle Phillipe in Redmoor; he’s going to put us up. Get as much as you can carry, I’ll explain everything on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll explain more about what happened to Maurice in the next chapter, but at this point, all you need to know is that Gaston doesn't like being told "No", and he and Le Fou are still close friends.


	4. Joining The Neighborhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Maurice make their escape across the forest and get settled in Redmoor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're off to the "castle", folks!

He’d been cleared by the doctor at the hospital, but Maurice didn’t argue when Belle insisted on driving them to Redmoor – he was especially thankful for it when a line of rain began to pelt down halfway through the Great Avalon Forest. Belle drove confidently, though some of the forest roads seemed treacherous. About ten minutes after the storm began, Maurice finally broke his silence.

“I’m sorry for panicking you like this, Belle. I didn’t think we had any other choice.”

“What do you mean?” Belle asked. “If you got jumped, don’t the police need to know?”

“They know,” Maurice said with a heavy sigh. “They just don’t care.”

“Well, I find that hard to believe!” Belle retorted. “Dad, people in Irondell love you, they wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

“Well, here’s what happened and you can judge for yourself,” Maurice countered. “I got attacked outside of the shop right after I closed up; thankfully, someone walking by was able to get me to the emergency room. I wanted to give my statement, so when Vonna’s husband walked in, I started to talk, but….” He sounded genuinely disheartened as his voice trailed off. “He told me to drop it for my sake and yours.”

Belle’s grip tightened so much on the steering wheel that her knuckles were almost white. “Chief Sam said that? Chief “honest to a fault” Sam? Did he bother to explain beyond that??” Sam Anderson had been one of the first adults besides Mr. Alvin to be truly kind of her after her mother Aimee passed away. If he was compromised, something was terribly wrong.

“Not really, but I noticed he cut me off when I started trying to describe the person who jumped me.” Maurice rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “I was pretty sure it was that young guy Le Fou who delivered our lunch from Vonna’s when Gaston came over. You’d think that the Chief of Police would want a violent thug away from his wife, right?”

Following her father’s logic, Belle said, “And if he doesn’t, then they have a connection…oh NO.” Her face went pale. “Gaston said Vonna owed him a favor, didn’t he?”

“Exactly. I think Gaston’s family money is mob-connected somehow and he’s got the Andersons on the take. Irondell’s not safe anymore.” Maurice put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “At least we have family who can put us up once we get to Redmoor.”

Belle nodded. “Yeah, and I’m not on social media – it’ll be easier to disappear.” She could tell there were tears in her eyes. Irondell had been home since she could remember, and she hated that some creep with too much money had chased them out because they hadn’t capitulated to him. The rain was almost blinding now, and Belle blinked the tears away as best she could so she could focus. Thankfully, a sign emerged: “10 miles to Redmoor”.

Belle was able to safely navigate the rest of the forest, even through the rain, and she smiled in relief as she saw the lights of the town. Her dad’s cousin Phillipe had moved out to Redmoor when he was a young man, and he had always insisted that the Flemings should come visit, but they’d never seemed to have the time. It was a shame, because Redmoor truly was beautiful. It was the closest thing to a big city that the region had, and it glittered on the edge of Great Avalon like a polished jewel – all Gothic architecture combined with the modern conveniences.

Phillipe lived in one of the mid-range neighborhoods, which Belle didn’t mind, especially if it meant her and Maurice’s car wouldn’t stand out. The rain was still pouring, but she was gratified to see that as she pulled up to his house, Phillipe was standing on the front porch getting the door open.

* * *

The next day dawned bright but cold; apparently the storm had brought a front behind it. Belle woke up from a restful night of sleep, and when Phillipe offered her a cup of hot tea to go with the breakfast he’d made, she took it gladly. The warmth of the mug was soothing, especially as she and Maurice explained what had happened in Irondell in more detail. Phillipe was appropriately horrified, and he promised his hospitality for as long as they needed it.

The three of them were putting away the breakfast dishes when someone knocked on the front door of the house, and Phillipe went to answer it. Belle and Maurice didn’t pay much attention to the snatch of conversation they heard, but when Phillipe returned with an apologetic look on his face, they were confused.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot that my neighbors were coming over to visit today – is it all right if they come in?” Given what the Flemings had just told him about their town being compromised, he didn’t want to assume they’d be ok with new people.

Belle and Maurice looked at each other, and they nodded. “If you know them, that’s enough for us,” Belle said.

Phillipe nodded and went to the hallway. When he returned, three people followed him. The first was a man about ten years older than Belle, though his hair was as dark as hers. He had a brilliant smile that still read as sincere, and on his arm was a beautiful woman with a chic short haircut whom Belle assumed to be his wife. Behind them, a gentleman who seemed closer to Maurice’s age followed, and while _he_ wasn’t smiling, Belle still sensed some warmth from him.

“Everyone,” Phillipe said, “this is my cousin Maurice and his daughter Belle, they’ll be staying with me a while. Maurice, Belle, these are my neighbors – Mr. Victor Lumiere and Mrs. Plumette Lumiere, and Mr. August Cogsworth.”

“A pleasure, _mes amis_!” Mr. Lumiere said, shaking Maurice’s hand firmly. “My Plumette and I live just across the street – we heard the car pull in last night, but with the power of the storm, we couldn’t come help with the luggage. You can call me by my last name, everyone does.”

It was a cliché to talk about the weather perhaps, but Belle appreciated that Lumiere brought it up. “Pleased to meet you all – and you’re right, that storm was no joke. I was the one driving and I was frightened we would be sent off the road a few times.”

Mr. Cogsworth cleared his throat and said in a straightforward way, “Well, you made it safely, and that’s what counts. I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been any help either; after a certain hour of the day, my arthritis makes things difficult for me.” He leaned a bit heavily, and Belle could now see that he was walking with an ornate cane. “I’m next door to the Lumieres, and on my other side is the Potts family. Angela and her boy Charles would be here, but she’s cane-bound like I am and she can have some trouble of her own.”

Plumette jokingly pushed the older man’s arm. “Gus, you’re too formal, you know everyone calls him Chip!”

Cogsworth huffed at the use of nicknames, but he continued. “Regardless, I promise that if she could be here, Mrs. Potts would have the finest food to offer – she has a combined café and bookshop downtown, and her recipes are the talk of the county.”

“I’m sure she’s lovely,” Belle said, and she meant it. She had been worried about the neighbors being suspicious of her and Maurice, and to be greeted with such courtesy was a pleasant surprise.

* * *

The group had a fine round of conversation all morning, but as the day turned to afternoon, the neighbors had to leave to their own errands, and the Flemings found themselves feeling a bit bored. Belle had her books, but what she’d told Gaston when he’d offered to make her a lady of leisure was correct – she found that even as she sat in a comfortable chair and read her poetry, her fingers itched to work on something, anything!

Maurice was even twitchier than his daughter was. He’d hardly had time to look up job postings before leaving Irondell, and while Phillipe had promised he would take care of them, he didn’t want to be a mooch either. Didn’t anyone in this town need a mechanic? By nightfall, the anxiety was too much to bear. Belle had managed to get comfortable after finding some drawing materials in a cabinet, but Maurice felt like he was going to explode out of his skin if he didn’t do something, even if it only meant getting some exercise.

After a hearty dinner that he and Belle helped prepare, he stood up from the table and said “I need to go for a walk. Does anyone want to join me?”

“I’m sorry, cuz, I have a video I wanted to catch,” Phillipe said apologetically.

“And I want to get back to that drawing I was doing,” Belle said. “Do you mind waiting until tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure I can,” Maurice admitted. “I won’t be long, but I’ve got to stretch my legs. Is it ok to go around the block?”

Phillipe nodded. “It should be – there’s only one other neighbor on my side of the road, and he doesn’t bother anybody. He’s actually been a real help to the neighborhood in the last few years.”

Maurice smiled, and even Belle could tell that he felt better already. He nodded to them both: “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

The street _was_ gorgeous as Maurice stepped outside. A few streetlamps had come on now that the sun had set, and they illuminated the road in gold and orange tones that suggested the cool fall weather. If he were a more fanciful type, he could imagine skipping from one pool of light to the next as if he were playing hopscotch.

The appreciation turned into true awe when he started to see an enormous garden appear further down the street. The neighbor’s house hadn’t come into view yet, but he wouldn’t have noticed it even if it were a palace.

There was a small open gate, and Maurice walked into the garden with a delight he hadn’t felt in years. The plants were varied and beautiful, from simple daisies to elaborate rhododendron bushes and everything in between. He could imagine his Aimee walking along the rows with him, finding joy in every bloom.

However, what really caught his attention was a rose bush that had the most perfect blooms he’d ever seen. The petals looked textbook-perfect, and all Maurice could think was “Belle has to have one of these!” A garden this large was surely meant for public use, why _shouldn’t_ he take a flower for her?

However, when he took his small pocketknife and cut a bloom, a yell echoed through the garden, almost more animal than human. Maurice whirled around in confusion and found himself face to face with an enraged young gardener holding a spade.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the younger man asked, and Maurice felt like he’d been slapped in the face. The gardener was loud, broad-shouldered and tall, and the sweat in his reddish-brown hair caught the light of the streetlamp in a strange way. “How dare you take something from my garden?”

Maurice understood that he’d overstepped, but this kid was scolding him like he was a child, and he wouldn’t have it. “I apologize, but you don’t need to yell at me! I’m new to the neighborhood-“

“I don’t care! Is this what people from out of town do - walk onto other people’s property like they own the place?” He turned to the bush and looked genuinely distressed. “This bush was my pride and joy and you’ve ruined it!”

“What is going on here!” Belle’s voice cut through the fray, and Maurice and the young man turned to look at her. She’d pulled on a coat against the chill and she was shivering as she tried to figure out what she was seeing. “I got my drawing done so I was trying to catch up with you when I heard the yelling.” She turned to the gardener. “Why are you shouting at my dad?”

“Because he’s a thief!” The gardener threw up his hands in frustration. “I leave the gate open so people can walk in here if they want, but that doesn’t mean they can just pluck whatever they like, especially not one of my roses!”

Belle was startled by the accusation, but she could understand why the gardener would be upset. “Dad? Did you really do that?”

“Only because I wanted one for you!” Maurice pulled the rose out from behind his back, and the gardener seemed to have a realization.

If the wheels in the gardener’s head were turning, Belle didn’t notice. “Well then, I need to fix it,” she said. She’d put her wallet in her pocket before leaving the house, and she pulled it out to look for some cash. “How much is that rose worth?”

“I wouldn’t be able to put a price on it; I’ve had the bush for years.” the gardener said. His rage had simmered out, and now he just sounded defeated.

“Then all I can do is apologize,” Maurice said. “I just had something I’ve had for years taken from me too. That’s part of why we’re in town now – we need to find something new.”

That seemed to move the gardener to more sympathy. “I see – but I still need to get this fixed, and I won’t have long before the frost comes.”

“What if _I_ helped?” Belle suddenly asked, and both Maurice and the gardener looked at her in surprise. “My dad’s a mechanic and I was his assistant for years. If you’d be willing to teach me, I can be a … botanist’s assistant, I guess?”

The young man considered the idea and seemed to like it. “That’s generous, but I should know who I’m working with.”

“That’s fair.” Belle offered her hand. “I’m Belle Fleming.”

He took the offered hand and Belle could feel his gardening calluses. “Adam Preston.”


End file.
